


The Language of Love

by Middle_Earth_Mama



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse of Khuzdul, Emotionally Constipated Thorin, Eventual Smut, M/M, Miscommunication, Oblivious Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27927703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Middle_Earth_Mama/pseuds/Middle_Earth_Mama
Summary: Bilbo has been pining after Thorin since they met. Thorin, however, proves to be a difficult dwarf to please. It might help if Bilbo could understand what Thorin has been saying to him.My summaries are terrible. Hopefully the fic itself is more passible!
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 25
Kudos: 208
Collections: Have A Happy Hobbit Holiday 2020





	The Language of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thehufflepuffhobbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehufflepuffhobbit/gifts).



> Happiest of Happy Holidays thehuffelpuffhobbit!
> 
> Everything in italics is said in Khuzdul. Hope you enjoy it!

The first time it happened, Bilbo assumed Thorin had been absolutely chewing him out. They had just managed to escape the trolls, and Bilbo was trying to put himself to rights again. His heart was still hammering uncomfortably in his chest, and he had just noticed his hands were still shaking, when Thorin suddenly stormed toward him, anger rolling off him in waves. The dwarf was intimidating in the best of times, and now that his apparent ire was directed toward Bilbo, the hobbit wished he could simply disappear. 

Thorin began ranting angrily in his native tongue, the guttural words spewing out unchecked as he grabbed Bilbo firmly by the shoulders and shook him lightly. Once the dwarf seemed to be out of words, he slowed down long enough to catch the confused and terrified look on Bilbo’s face. Thorin froze, looking a bit embarrassed and quickly backed away. 

“I didn’t catch any of that,” Bilbo stated, his brow furrowed and a look of befuddlement on his face.  
“It was…. nothing. You should have been more careful! We can’t afford these kind of mistakes!” Thorin stormed off and left Bilbo to mull over the interaction on his own.

Bilbo swallowed around the lump in his throat. Hadn’t he just helped the company escape death? Perhaps an outsider could never earn Thorin’s approval. He took a deep breath and tried to settle himself.

Bilbo glanced around to see how many of the company had witnessed. The dwarves turned away a bit too quickly, busying themselves and obviously trying to appear as though they hadn’t noticed their king biting Bilbo’s head off. 

Bilbo sighed and straightened his jacket. He would just have to be more careful and avoid provoking Thorin’s ire. 

*****

It happened again in the mountains. When the stone giants had finally lumbered off and left the company all whole and hale, Bilbo found himself dangling precariously from the cliffside. He held on with everything he had, the precarious grip of his numb fingers slipping on the cold wet stone. His heartbeat roared in his ears, terror stabbing sharp in his gut and flooding through him like ice shards. He was going to fall. This would be how he died. 

Then, he was surrounded with the warm spicy smell of stone and cedar, and an arm wrapped around him out of nowhere. Impossibly, he was pulled up onto the hard ledge and into Bofur’s arms. In the midst of the scrambling that followed, he saw Thorin being hauled up from where he had just been dangling.

Thorin.

Thorin had thrown himself in harm’s way in order to pull Bilbo to safety. The hobbit was overcome with admiration and gratitude, but before he could even begin to express it, Thorin was thundering in his face. Sharp, harsh sounding words fell from his tongue, and Bilbo could not understand a single one of them. Something about “kurdu” and “menu tessu” and several other phrases Bilbo didn’t quite catch. He hung his head and stood quietly, wondering how Thorin managed to be so gorgeous even when he was telling Bilbo off. When Thorin was finished, he gave Bilbo a last regretful look and stomped off in an angry huff. 

Bilbo looked around after he was sure Thorin was through. Balin caught his eye, a smirk playing about his lips as he turned to follow his king, and Bilbo wondered what Balin could possibly find so amusing. He glanced around and found only Bofur and Ori standing nearby, Ori glancing at him with a small smile as Bofur jovially threw an arm over his shoulders and urged him onward. 

*****

It had been a close thing, before the Goblin Tunnels. Bilbo had seriously intended to leave. To be in the presence of a dwarf king, one who had Bilbo’s absolute admiration, but didn’t even have the decency to insult and chastise him in a language he could understand was maddening. But Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to go. The pull he felt toward Thorin was one he knew he could not easily forget or ignore, and so he stayed. He knew he had made the right choice, he felt nothing but relief when he found his dwarves on the other side of the goblin tunnels, emerging just in time to hear Thorin once again cursing him. The look on the king’s face when Bilbo suddenly appeared and declared his intent to see them home was priceless; a mixture of surprise and regret. Of course, the small victory couldn’t last. With a warg’s howl and the sound of their pursuers, all thoughts of victorious satisfaction scattered like dandelion fluff on the wind. 

The company somehow managed to wedge themselves up into the tops of impossible trees, evergreens that stood stronger and prouder than any Bilbo had known. Even so, their trunks could not withstand an onslaught of vicious wargs.

When the last tree had fallen, and the dwarves hung high over sure death. When the path was paved with fire, and Thorin had risen and proudly strode forth to face his foe. When the white warg had dragged the dwarf down and tossed him like driftwood in the sea, Bilbo rose to his feet. It was more than fondness that drove him, and he wasn’t about to stop and analyze it too closely. He ran to the dwarf’s aid with no thought of self-preservation in his head. Through bravery or sheer stupidity, he stood against Azog, warrior or no, and by some miracle, help arrived before Bilbo’s inevitable demise.

The rest was all a blur, the eagles came and carried them to safety. One moment, Thorin looked to be on death’s door, the next he was standing up and pulling Bilbo into a warm and fierce embrace, words of Khuzdul Bilbo had become accustomed to hearing falling from the dwarf’s lips in a way they had never done before. 

Bilbo frowned, confusion and a giddy excitement from Thorin’s proximity warring within him. He finally let his hands come up to settle uncertainly on Thorin’s back, letting a small smile grace his face as he closed his eyes and breathed in the dwarf’s scent. 

By the time Thorin finally let go, Bilbo felt a bit dizzy and dazed. His heart was fluttering behind his ribs, his face warm with the softest hint of a blush. Bilbo stepped back, trying to regain his composure. His eyes met Gandalf’s, and the wizard gave him a wink before Thorin was suddenly slapping his back affectionately and assessing him with a fond smile and intense, emotion filled eyes. 

What the fuck had Thorin been saying?

*****

The skin changer was intimidating, though the company couldn’t complain, as he had also been a forgiving and gracious host. The dwarves had found a moment to rest, and Bilbo finally had adequate time to ponder the frustrating and confusing dwarf king. 

“Bilbo?” Ori’s tentative voice pulled Bilbo from his musings. “Are you alright?”

Kili’s cheerful voice joined in. “If you think any harder, your head will explode!”

Bilbo gave the excitable prince a scowl, though it didn’t seem to have much effect. He turned back to the young scribe, a determined look on his face. “Ori, what exactly has Thorin been saying when he yells at me?”  
Ori stiffened, his cheeks pinkening slightly. “Oh, I don’t really think I’m the one who should tell you that.”  
“Well, if Thorin insists on cursing me in Khuzdul, it would only be fair if I understood what he was saying.”  
“Absolutely!” Kili agreed, mischief in his eye. “and we’re going to teach you!”  
“Kili….” The warning in Fili’s voice was only halfhearted. He knew at this point there would be no stopping his little brother. 

Kili wrapped an arm around Bilbo’s shoulder and gave Fili an impish smile. “Don’t you worry, Bilbo! We’ll teach you all you need to know!”

*****

The next several nights consisted of Fili, Kili, and Ori sneaking out into the forest with a hopeful, but apprehensive Bilbo. He was terrified of what would happen if the other dwarves found out what they had been doing. He knew very little of dwarven culture, and that was exactly the point. Outsiders weren’t supposed to be taught Khuzdul. They weren’t supposed to know all of the intricate details Kili had been teaching him as Fili and Ori stood nervous watch. They weren’t supposed to know the difference between “amad” and “namad”. But Bilbo learned quickly. Language was something he excelled at, and Ori was able to set aside his misgivings with sheer delight at finding another scholar with whom to confer. He showed Bilbo old scrolls he had gathered and been studying during their journey. He taught him how to write the small phrases he had learned. Within a week, Bilbo was able to have short and simple conversations with the young dwarves in their native tongue, and Kili was most pleased. 

Bilbo was sitting with Ori beneath the trees one lovely afternoon. They were in the middle of conversation, where Ori was teaching Bilbo to discuss the weather, when the clearing of a throat had them nearly jumping from their skin.

“ _Nice day, isn’t it?_ ” Balin asked casually in Khuzdul, his hands clasped behind his back in a façade of innocence.  
Ori and Bilbo fixed the old dwarf with twin looks of absolute horror.  
“Bilbo,” Balin continued in Westron, “would you mind giving me and the young scribe a moment?”  
Ori’s eyes widened, and Bilbo felt quite sorry for him. He gave the dwarf an apologetic look, then disappeared behind a few trees.

Balin assessed the young dwarf before him with a shrewd gaze. He heaved a sigh and settled on the ground in front of Ori, attempting to gain the dwarf’s eye. “Have ya taught him ‘amralime’ and the difference between ‘azyungel’ and ‘anyungal’?”

Ori frowned in confusion and shook his head. 

“It’s about time we help our dear burglar to understand our king.” Balin’s conspiring grin was quickly mirrored by Ori’s, and the old dwarf chuckled with a glint in his eye. “I think I’ll take over this lesson. We’ll take turns from day to day. I’m sure the rest of our company would like to play their part in this particular scheme, hm?”

*****

Thorin sat is his cold dark cell, hopeless and morose. The elves had separated him from the company, and he knew Bilbo wasn’t among them. The hobbit had no doubt fallen victim to the spiders, and now they would all perish in the dungeon of the woodland king. 

“Thorin?” Bilbo’s frantic and elated voice echoed eerily down the hall as the hobbit appeared before the dwarf’s cell. “Thorin, thank Yavanna I’ve found you.”

“Bilbo,” Thorin’s voice was thick with emotion as he pressed his face against the smaller hands that gripped the iron bars of his cell. “ _my dear one, I worried for you, my love, my jewel! Your loss would kill me before the rot of this worthless sprite’s kingdom!_ ” 

Bilbo blushed terribly as he understood almost every word that poured from Thorin’s mouth. He stepped back a few paces and licked his lips, trying to reign in his surprise school his features. 

“I-I have a plan,” Bilbo began, his voice a bit pitchy, “I n-need you to trust me, and I swear to you, I will get you out of there.”

“And the company? Fili? Kili?”  
“They are in the upper cells and they are alright. I assure you, I will get every last one of you free.”  
Thorin grinned and a warmth of a thousand forges filled his eyes. “ _My fierce tiny treasure_ ,” he chuckled, “I trust you completely.”

*****

Thorin scanned the rocky bank, searching for Bilbo. The rest of the company had seemed to wash ashore, a bit soggy and worse for wear, but alive. All but the hobbit. Thorin ran back and forth along the bank, but to no avail. 

“Thorin! There!” Dwalin pointed out to the middle of the river, where Bilbo clung to a rogue barrel. 

“Bilbo!” Thorin threw himself into the frigid water and swam out as fast as he could. He barely managed to catch the barrel and pulled Bilbo into the safety of one arm, before he turned to drag the hobbit to shore. He laid Bilbo out on the rocks, his hands frantically smoothing over Bilbo’s face as the hobbit coughed and hacked up river water. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t swim? _How could you risk yourself that way? I have almost lost you so many times already! My heart would have died with you_.” 

Again, Bilbo found himself flabbergasted by the dwarf’s words. With mounting panic chilling his veins, he wondered if perhaps the others had taught him the wrong translations just to mess with him. 

No, Balin and Ori would never play a prank like that. Bilbo could see Kili and maybe even Bofur and Fili fooling around that way, but he truly didn’t see Balin and Ori capable of that level of deception. Not to mention Bombur and Dori. They would never do something so cruel. 

So, that left but one explanation, however difficult to believe. Thorin was in love with Bilbo.

*****

Bilbo sat on a lonely bench, overlooking the frigid water and contemplating things. The briny air made his nose twitch, and the cold nipped at his ears. But all Bilbo could think about was Thorin. Now that he was fairly certain the king returned his feelings, how could he tell him? Would Thorin be angry the others had taught him their language?

Bilbo sighed, his breath misting on the cold air. Yellow light and a wave of warmth washed over him as Balin came out to join him. The dwarf shut the door and had a seat on Bilbo’s bench, pulling out his pipe and some borrowed pipe weed. Balin packed the bowl and lit it, taking a long and measured pull, before offering it to Bilbo. The hobbit accepted, relieved for something to do to settle him. 

“It’s rather cold out here, laddie,” Balin began. He turned and raised an eyebrow at Bilbo, silently urging him to speak.

“Yes,” Bilbo croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes it is.”

“Why are you out here, when the festivities are just beginning inside?” the old dwarf asked.

“Oh. Well I- I just thought to enjoy the stars. It’s far too crowded with big folk in there anyhow. No place for a hobbit,” Bilbo stated.

“Hm,” Balin didn’t look the least bit convinced. He crossed his ankles and took back his pipe, puffing on it as he gazed off pensively. “It seems to me,” he finally said, “you are avoiding something. Or someone?” Balin gave Bilbo a knowing look.

Bilbo huffed in annoyance. 

“Listen laddie, I know you understand enough Khuzdul by now to know how our good king feels about you.”

Bilbo looked down at his feet, pursing his lips, and cleared his throat nervously. 

“What is it you’re afraid of? I’ve seen the way you look at him. You are his One. What is stopping you?”

Bilbo frowned and looked up at the dwarf. “One what?”

“His One. Dwarves love once and only once.”

“Oh,” Bilbo turned his thoughtful gaze back to the water. “I- I didn’t know that. So… so no pressure there, hm?”

Balin rested his calm gaze on the hobbit, who reluctantly met his eyes. “Bilbo, no dwarf would ever expect you to go through with a relationship if you were not interested or comfortable with it. It happens all the time,” he shrugged. “Our craft then becomes our heart, and honing our craft is fulfilling. Not all dwarves get married or find our Ones.”

Bilbo wasn’t sure he felt much better. He huffed and fidgeted with his jacket a bit, before finally dropping his hands in his lap and turning his face skyward.  
“I’m afraid I will anger him,” he finally confessed. He turned to face Balin, an earnest look on his face. “Thorin is your king. Isn’t it his duty to uphold your laws?”

Balin frowned as he tried to guess Bilbo’s train of thought. “Of course.”

“And isn’t one of those laws that no outsider is to know your culture? Your language?”

The corner of Balin’s lips lifted, and he softened his gaze. “You have not been an outsider since Thorin laid eyes on you. You are one of us.”

*****

Time was running out. There were only a few days before the company would be going to face a dragon, and Thorin wasn’t sure how else to express his feelings to Bilbo. Balin had suggesting just coming out and saying it, in a language Bilbo could actually understand, but of course Thorin couldn’t be so straightforward. He decided to go to Ori. The scribe had spent so much of their journey with Bilbo, surely a curious young dwarf like Ori would have asked a whole manner of questions about hobbit culture. Thorin just hoped some of them had to do with courting. 

The scribe sat scribbling in his sketch book, and he didn’t seem to notice Thorin until the king had been sitting next to him for several minutes.

“O-Oh! Thorin! I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice you were there,” Ori said with a nervous grin.

“That’s alright,” Thorin assured. “I only wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?” Ori’s interest was piqued, and Thorin suddenly had his complete and full attention. 

“You have been close friends with Bilbo for most of our journey,” Thorin began. “I’ve noticed you spend… quite a lot of time together?”

Ori frowned curiously. “Yes….”

Thorin hesitated for a moment. “I- I know that you have heard… that I have said some things to him that…..” Thorin huffed, frustrated with his lack of words. “You know that I… that-“

“That you’re in love with him? Yes,” Ori finished for him.

Thorin sighed. “Alright. Do you have any idea how hobbits… show their… their…”

“Love?” Ori offered.

Thorin dropped his head into his hand, rubbing at his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “Yes. Yes, that.”

Ori grinned, thrilled to be able to help his friend and king along. “Food.”

Thorin looked up at the scribe quizzically, as though he were trying to decide if Ori were joking. 

“They share food. An interested hobbit will offer a bite from their own hand to their intended. If the other accepts, they begin courtship,” Ori recited.

Thorin’s frown deepened. “Food?” he huffed a chuckle. “Of course they share food.” Thorin scrubbed his hands over his face, then slapped them to his knees and pushed himself to his feet. “Thank you, Ori. You’ve been very helpful.”

Ori smiled. “You’re welcome!”

*****

Thorin made his way through the crowded room, a fresh ale and a plate of bread and cheese in his hands. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking up them with apprehension. He hadn’t seen Bilbo all night, and Balin had said the hobbit had retired to his room for the evening. All Thorin had to do was bring Bilbo this plate and feed him. Then, he would simply have to hope the hobbit felt the same way Thorin did. 

Thorin pinched his eyes closed against the anxiety. 

“Get up there, ya great fool,” Dwalin thumped Thorin roughly on the back. “Best do it now than wait. We’ll be headin out in a few days’ time, and I imagine ye’ll be wantin ta take advantage.” Dwalin raised his eyebrows suggestively and laughed, ignoring Thorin’s warning scowl before he lumbered off in search of more ale. 

Thorin took a deep breath, gathering his courage, then began to climb the steps. He reached the landing and headed to Bilbo’s room, his breathing shallow and hands sweating slightly. He shifted the plate to balance between his forearm and chest and he knocked on Bilbo’s door.

The door opened to reveal a cheery and mildly surprised hobbit. 

“Oh! Hello Thorin,” Bilbo greeted warmly, a welcoming smile on his face. He stepped back to make room for Thorin to enter, a look of uncertainty ghosting about his otherwise cheerful features.  
“Here,” Bilbo moved his cup of tea from the table before the fire, “lay that here and take a seat, Thorin.” 

The dwarf took the offered chair and Bilbo took the one next to it. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, giving the room a pleasant warm glow. Though, in his current state of unease, Thorin found it a bit stifling. 

“What brings you here, Thorin?” Bilbo asked, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

Thorin swallowed thickly. Dwarves didn’t get nervous. Dwarves weren’t scared of anything. No, it was an excited anticipation that filled him, sending his adrenaline skittering through him and his heart hammering against his ribs as he picked up a piece of cheese and held it out to Bilbo.

Bilbo froze, his eyes widening in surprise as he looked from the morsel between Thorin’s fingers to the dwarf’s earnest and open face. “Thorin?”

The dwarf remained silent, his anxiety rising as he moved his hand closer and waited for Bilbo’s response. 

A slow grin began to spread over Bilbo’s face. He leaned forward slowly, taking the cheese between his lips and hummed in contentment as his eyes fluttered closed and he chewed. When he was finished, he opened his eyes and took in Thorin’s uncertain expression. Bilbo's eyes had darkened, and the very air seemed to still as he regarded the dwarf.

“You do know what that means to a hobbit, don’t you?” Bilbo asked softly, his voice a bit husky. 

Thorin nodded, still unsure of his reception. 

“Ori?” Bilbo asked, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

Again, Thorin nodded, feeling a little more sure of himself. 

Thorin’s brow furrowed, his eyes widening slightly as Bilbo got out of his chair and took Thorin’s hands, urging him to his feet. He held on tightly, the feel of Bilbo’s hands finally in his sending a current of want and longing through Thorin like nothing he’d felt before. 

“Here,” Bilbo began softly, “let’s see if I can get this right.” He cleared his throat pointedly and looked up into Thorin’s eyes, finally letting his emotions show through. “ _I… will be your heart, your treasure, your jewel, as you are my sun, my light, my moon. Never will you have to go on without me, my love, as I will be at your side as long as you will have me_.”

A stunned silence followed, in which Thorin stood completely still, eyes as large as saucers and brain unable to process. He blinked rapidly, then his mouth worked silently as though searching for words. “I- how?” 

Bilbo grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone helped. Did I do alright?”

In lieu of an answer, Thorin dropped Bilbo’s hands and reached up to cup the hobbit’s face. He gazed reverently into those adoring eyes, thumbs smoothing over Bilbo’s jaw. Without a word, he leaned in, Bilbo’s hands immediately grasping the front of Thorin’s shirt as their lips met in an eager kiss. Thorin pulled back for a moment, if only to gage Bilbo’s reaction, but was yanked forward again and met with eager lips and tongue. 

Thorin groaned. His hands smoothed down Bilbo’s back and rested at his waist for a moment, before the dwarf dared to let them slide down a bit further. 

“Thorin?” Bilbo panted between breathy kisses, “do dwarves have any aversion to advanced physical relationships this early in courting?”

“No,” Thorin breathed, “please tell me hobbits don’t either.”

“No,” Bilbo groaned as Thorin’s lips found the sensitive spot below his ear. “Then can I assume it’s alright for me to remove your clothes as quickly as I can manage?”

“Please, assume,” Thorin whispered against the shell of Bilbo’s ear. 

Bilbo shivered pleasantly, his hands finding Thorin’s hair and pulling him up to kiss him properly again. He let go and raised his arms as Thorin lifted his shirt off of him, then Bilbo slid his hands under the front of Thorin's tunic and pushed it up over his head. The blazing hearth warmed their already heated skin, and their movements slowed as Thorin leaned in and took Bilbo's mouth with his own.

Thorin moaned into Bilbo’s mouth as the hobbit’s hand found his laces, brushing lightly against the dwarf's hardened length, and Bilbo quickly worked them loose and pushed Thorin’s trousers down his legs. There was a bit of stumbling as Thorin stepped out of the offending article, and began working quickly to remove Bilbo’s. 

Bilbo grabbed Thorin’s hair, tugging gently for the dwarf to follow him to the bed without their lips losing the other’s. They tumbled to the bed in a tangle of limbs, Bilbo wriggled to get his legs free and Thorin cradled himself between them. They rocked together, each desperately seeking friction as Thorin’s mouth found the side of Bilbo’s neck and the hobbit arched beneath him with a beautiful moan. 

It was over too quickly. The friction and feeling of urgency building up to an explosive crescendo until both lay panting for breath. Thorin slid down, settling his head gently on Bilbo’s soft stomach as fingers carded idly through his hair. They were silent for a few minutes, taking the time to bask in the afterglow, and attempt to accept that they had each other now. 

“Thorin?” Bilbo asked breathily. “Does this mean, I can stay in Erebor once we’ve reclaimed the mountain?”

Thorin’s chuckle made Bilbo shiver pleasantly.

“I would certainly be devastated if you didn't.”


End file.
